THE GUNNER (completing his task)
There, lad! His honor gives ye lief to stretch out the kinks in ye.
ROBERT (rising quickly, though painfully)
Lydia!
(He rushes to her, bending over to unfasten her wrists.)
THE GUNNER (following threateningly)
Here! His honor didn’t say you could——
BIMBO (interrupting sharply, without looking up from the ledger, in which he has begun to write with a quill pen)
Stand where you are. Let him alone.
(The Gunner instantly obeys.)
ROBERT (untying Lydia)
Lydia, poor child! Lydia!
LYDIA (whimpering)
Poor Robert!
(As she rises he instantly puts her behind him and stands upon the defensive, facing the Gunner and Bimbo.)
ROBERT (with a gleam in his eye)
We’re not done yet, Lydia.
(He grips the back of a heavy wooden chair.)
THE GUNNER (threateningly)
What’s in your mind to do with that chair?
ROBERT (ominously)
I think I could kill one man with it—two, I hope.
BIMBO (not looking up)
Don’t lift that chair.